Opposites Attract
by A Soldier Of My Own
Summary: Haruhi Fujioka had never had any interest in becoming a Pokemon trainer. Pokemon x Ouran Cross-over


A/N: Combining two of my obsessions; Ouran and Pokemon. It's a weird combo. And frightening. Mind you, these stories are almost purely crack!fics, and mostly one shots (with some being three or four chapters, maybe a few more) and interconnected. This is the first one shot to kick them all off. Please note it is a crossover, an extreme AU, and might contain quite a bit of OOC-ness where the Ouran kids are concerned. And a few Ocs, since there aren't enough Ouran characters to make good gym leaders, etc. along the way. Anywho, I enjoy feedback and reviews. They are LIFEBLOOD.

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**Opposites Attract**

Haruhi Fujioka had never had any interest in becoming a Pokemon trainer.

In fact, she'd been so uninterested, she hadn't even bothered to take the test for her trainer's license when she turned thirteen, and had, instead, stayed at home to help her father run his poffin business, despite Ranka Fujioka's continued protests.

"It's just not that interesting, dad," she told him blandly one day when he'd demanded, yet again, why she wasn't out 'doing what normal teenagers do.' "I mean, I'd rather stay here and help out. I think you could use the help, don't you?"

And as loathe as Ranka was to admit it, he knew his daughter was right; his poffin business, _Okama Treats and Treasures_, was booming in the small town of Hatori, and was becoming rather well known in the nearby cities as well (even if it _was _run by a transvestite; not that there was anything _wrong _with that).

But Ranka was also aware enough to have caught his daughter's wistful look when other trainers her age left for their journeys, or came back sporting a multitude of badges. And even Ranka's Mr. Mime had elicited quickly-covered looks of envy and sighs of longing.

Ranka was a lot more shrewd than his daughter liked to think he was.

"Haru-chan," Ranka called from the kitchen, stirring his latest batch of poffins with a critical eye, making sure the batter didn't accidentally deflate and ruin the batch. "Can you come here for a moment?"

The sound of his daughter's footsteps padding from the living room into the kitchen alerted him to her arrival, and he smiled to himself as he felt her near his elbow. "Listen, Haru-chan," he began quickly, before she could open her mouth to ask what it was he wanted. "I have a little surprise for you! It's in that box on the table." He jerked his head towards the kitchen table, where an inconspicuous little package sat, wrapped in an unassuming pink bow.

Haruhi furrowed her brows; if she knew her father (and she _did_) then whatever he had gotten her was probably something frilly, girly, or overly useless. Sighing quietly, Haruhi trudged over to the table and lifted the box into her hands. It was weightier than she imagined, and curiously, she undid the ribbon and opened the lid. Inside, a dark red Pokédex sat innocently on a bed of tissue paper, and Harui's brow furrowed even further as she lifted it from the package. "Dad," she began warily. "What _is _this? And why are you giving it to me?"

Satisfied that his latest batch of poffins wouldn't be ruining anytime soon, Rank fluttered over to his daughter, grabbing her by the shoulders and beaming. "It's a Pokédex, Haru-chan! I would've thought _you _of all people would have known that. As to _why _I'm giving it to you-" There was a glint in her father's eye that Haruhi wasn't sure she liked. "I think it's about time you go on a Pokemon journey of your own! Your mother would've wanted you to! In fact, that's her Pokédex there. I had it updated for you the other day, and I even took the liberty of signing you up to take the test to get your trainer's license!"

"You did _what_?" Haruhi choked, nearly dropping the Pokédex in shock. She knew her father was ridiculous and impulsive, but she never imagined _this_! "Dad, what were you thinking?"

As if summoned by the commotion in the kitchen, Ranka's Mr. Mime, Rouge, slipped into the room, shooting curious looks at both father and daughter. He'd long ago grown accustomed to Ranka's bouts of strangeness, but he'd never heard Haruhi sound so…out of sorts. It was, frankly, a bit disturbing for the psychic-type Pokemon.

"I was _thinking _that I'm tired of seeing my beloved little girl moping around like someone stole her favorite teddy bear! Come on, Haruhi! By the time she was your age, your mother already had _eight _badges and was challenging the league! You need to get out and live a little, sweetheart. You need to get your nose out of those books of yours and out into the real world."

"What about the business?""Pish-posh! I have enough funds to hire some help if I need it. And I have Rouge to help me out around _here_!"

"But dad-" Haruhi protested weakly, already feeling her resolve crumbling at the prospect of getting her very own Pokemon; she had always wondered what it would be like to be a trainer, just like her mother. And she'd always looked up to her mom, who had been one of the best trainers in the Ouran league when she was younger. "-I-I'm too _old_!"

"Not that same old song and dance, Haru-chan!" Rank cried dramatically, clutching Haruhi to his chest in a bone-crushing hug. Mr. Mime looked vaguely worried, contemplating the merits of trying to separate the two. "You are most certainly _not _too old! So don't you dare use that as an excuse. I don't want any 'buts,' Haru-chan. You're going to get your license, and that's that!"

And that was, of course, _that_.

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Haruhi clutched the small slip of paper in her hands as she strolled down the dusty road that led to Professor Ohtori's laboratory.

She'd passed her trainer's test with flying colors (Of course) and she was now on her way to pick up her first Pokemon. She had absolutely no idea which one she'd get, but she'd read plenty of books about Pokemon, and she was confident that no matter what she ended up with, she'd be able to adapt to them quickly and effectively.

So with her backpack packed (Courtesy of a teary-eyed and overzealous Ranka and Mr. Mime) and a slight spring in her step, Haruhi had set out on her Pokemon journey.

She just had to get a _Pokemon _first.

Haruhi glanced down at the paper in her hand to make sure she was taking the right road; she'd never visited Fuyumi Ohtori's lab, but the renowned Pokemon expert had published many books on the subject of Pocket monsters and their habits and abilities. The woman was an inspiration to girls everywhere, and Haruhi was looking forward to meeting her.

Anyone _that _smart was practically a legend in the bookworm's eyes.

As she reached the facility, she had to stop and gape for a moment at the sprawling meadows and forests that made up the lab's private land, owned and operated by Fuyumi Ohtori and her family. The Ohtori family was very well known; they had produced and manufactured most of the Pokemon medicines on the market, and Haruhi was well aware of their wealth and reputation.

"Excuse me."

The brown haired girl nearly tripped over her own feet as she scrambled out of the way of a dark haired boy coming up the path. He wore a pair of glasses, his smile curling over his lips in a way that made her shudder, and his dark hair swept coolly to the side as he strolled past her. Beside him, a rather large and intimidating looking Persian trotted, it's eyes narrowing on her for a brief moment as they passed.

_Wow…he was…a bit frightening._

Haruhi frowned to herself when she realized the boy was making his way into the facility, stepping through the automatic doors and disappearing inside. Recomposing herself, Haruhi hurried to catch up, suddenly reminded that she was probably not the only one who was here to get her first Pokemon. She wanted to get a good one, and she couldn't do that if they had all been taken, now could she?

Stepping through the doors, Haruhi was greeted with a somewhat disparaging sight.

It seemed she'd been beaten here by not only the slightly scary boy from before, but _another _boy who was currently swinging a very excitable looking Totodile in a circle. Feeling her spirits sink slightly, Haruhi stepped further into the room, and cleared her throat, catching the attention of both boys, and the woman in the lab coat who stood beside them.

"Um, h-hi. I'm Haruhi Fujioka. I'm here to-"

"To get your first Pokemon, of _course_!" the woman exclaimed before Haruhi could finish. "Yes, yes. Now come right over here, won't you? I still have two for you to pick from! I'm professor Ohtori by the way, but you can call me Professor Fuyumi! Everyone does!" The woman's eyes twinkled as she smiled, and Haruhi felt the tension easing from her shoulders as she tentatively moved closer.

A throat clearing caught the attention of both women, and Haruhi turned to see the boy with the dark hair and glasses smiling serenely. "Forgive me for interrupting, Fuyumi. But I believe you only have _one _Pokemon left," he informed the professor calmly.

"Kyo-kun, what-?"

The boy picked up one of the Pokeballs sitting on the table in the middle of the lab, and held it up for them to see. "I'll be taking this one, if you don't mind."

"Oh! Kyo-kun! What a good choice!"

"Which one is that?" the blonde boy, who had remained strangely silent throughout the exchange, leaned over to gaze at the ball in his friend's hand.

"It's a Cyndaquil, Tamaki," the bespectacled boy informed passively. "I have always been interested in fire-types. And it seems rather fitting, considering you picked the water-type, don't you think?"

The blonde boy, Tamaki, brightened, his amethyst eyes shining. "Of course, Kyoya! You are right, as always! And your Cyndaquill and Fluffy will make the best of friends and teammates!"

"Fluffy?" Kyoya questioned, his tone bland.

"Why, my new Totodile, of course!" Tamaki crowed, holding up the excited little blue alligator Pokemon for his friend to see. "I think Fluffy is a fitting name!"

_How is _that _a fitting name for a Totodile? _Haruhi wondered, face dropping into a blank look as she wondered at the blonde's stupidity. Deciding she didn't even want to _bother _wondering, she quickly turned back to the professor, and lightly cleared her throat. "Um, Professor Fuyumi. Which…which Pokemon is left?"

Fuyumi put her hands to her cheeks, eyes going wide. "Oh! Oh of course! You need your Pokemon as well!" The professor bustled over to the table and lifted the remaining ball, bringing it to Haruhi and pressing it into her waiting hands. "I think you'll like what's inside there, Haruhi-chan!" she exclaimed, making 'shooing' motions with her hands and urging the girl to open the ball.

Nodding, Haruhi pressed the button in the middle, and in a flash of light, a small, green monster erupted from the Pokeball, looking somewhat hassled and unhappy. It eyed it's surroundings with a less than pleased look, gaze narrowing when it beheld the trainer currently holding it's ball.

And then, without warning, a pair of vines appeared from the little nubs around it's neck, and knocked the ball out of Haruhi's hand.

"Chikorita!" Fuyumi scolded as the ball bounced once and rolled across the floor to stop at Tamaki's feet. "That wasn't very nice!" Fuyumi turned to a surprised looking Haruhi with a faintly apologetic look. "I am sorry, dear. That really is the last Pokemon I have for you to choose from. But I'm afraid Chikorita has always been a bit temperamental. She's not entirely fond of humans and-"

"It's okay," Haruhi replied, eyeing her new monster warily as it eyed her back with equal distrust. "I'm sure we can…uh, overcome this…um, difficulty."

"That's the _spirit_, Haruhi!" Tamaki cried, tears rolling down his face at how strong this girl was being in the face of adversity; she was so admirable, and so _cute _when she looked bewildered like that! "You will most certainly persevere!" And then he was beside her, crushing her to his side in a one-armed hug while simultaneously pushing her Pokeball back into her hands. The newly named Fluffy was trying to hug Chikorita in much the same way, but was rudely rebuffed by a flurry of vine whips.

Kyoya was silent, pushing his glasses up his nose as he secured his Cyndaquil's Pokeball onto his belt. Beside him, his Persian looked less than amused, and cleaned one paw disinterestedly. "Either way," Kyoya began at last, interrupting Haruhi's struggle to push the overzealous Tamaki away amidst cries of 'You're so _cute _when you scowl, Haruhi!' "Tamaki, we must be going. We've got a lot of walking to do if we're going to get to Daisy City before nightfall."

"Of course," Tamaki replied evenly, finally releasing a much relieved Haruhi from his grasp and stepping away. Her freedom didn't last long, however, as Tamaki quickly swept her hands up into his, disregarding the fact that she was still holding Chikorita's Pokeball. "Dear Haruhi. Though we have only just met, I feel as though I've know you for a lifetime! It would honor Kyoya and I greatly if you would travel with us to Daisy City!" His eyes glittered and Haruhi stared at him in surprise and (not to mention) confusion as he flipped his hair to the side.

She could've _swore _she saw it sparkle.

"Uh…No thanks," she replied blandly, and Tamaki nearly face planted in shock. "I'd rather not. You're kind of…weird." She was surprised when the blonde shrunk away from her, a cloud of gloom hovering over him as Fluffy patted his shoulder consolingly.

"O…kay," Haruhi muttered, ignoring the moody boy in favor of turning to Professor Fuyumi. She bowed low, hands clasped in front of her. "Thank you, professor. I think I should be on my way now." Fuyumi waved a hand, a smile on her face.

"Of course, Haruhi-chan! You should get going before it gets too dark. And make sure you call me and let me know how it's going with Chikorita!"

"I will," Haruhi replied with a small smile of her own, turning to face a disgruntled looking Chikorita who still seemed adamant about not having her as a trainer. With it's head turned away and it's nose in the air, Haruhi was vaguely reminded of a rather snooty girl, and sighed silently, wondering why life hated her. "Come on, Chikorita," she intoned passively, holding up the Pokeball and directing it at the monster. Before the green grass-type could protest, she was bathed in a beam of red light and disappeared back into the ball.

"Um, goodbye Tamaki, Kyoya. Good luck on your journey!" Haruhi called, and Kyoya lifted an apathetic hand in a faint wave as Tamaki peeked over his shoulder, still caught up in his funk and now mushroom-cultivating corner

Stepping back out into the bright sunlight, Haruhi silently hoped she wouldn't run into either of those boys again; Kyoya was creepy and Tamaki was just plain weird.

Running her fingers along the Pokeball in her hand, Haruhi started down the path that led out of town, a light smile on her face. "It's just you and me now, Chikorita," she told the ball quietly. "I think I'll name you Hana. I'm sure we'll get along _eventually_."

As she angled herself out of town and towards Daisy City, she really hoped she was right.

_Dear mother who is in heaven…_

_I'm finally on my way._

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A/N: Aaaaaaand the first installment is up. These are a series of oneshots (Or two shots or more) that will be a sort of series to read in order. I hope you enjoy! More to come in the form of a three shot later.


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